Smile
by grandma23
Summary: Marguerite's another secret revealed... and it's about William Roxton. Maybe she did know him after all?.. Marguerite/Roxton, Marguerite/William Roxton.
1. Chapter 1

"I'll take this room, thank you." The red cloaked figure's firm but very feminine voice rang in the room that was furnished with Victorian furniture and dark green curtains. The woman went to the window, her high heels clicking against the wooden floor, and looked outside in the street that was half-illuminated by street lamps. Her manners, and the way she stood there, were very nonchalant and casual, but a single look at her eyes, that were alert and wide were enough to betray her anxiety. _'No policemen in the street nearby..._' She smiled contently.

"Well, then could you please hand me your passport, mademoiselle?" The old owner of the hotel said, his voice very official. "Please don't be offended, but strange people have been appearing lately in this town. And these _tourists_.."

The woman smiled when he pronounced the last word with disgust. The old man probably thought her native, fooled by her perfect Parisian accent. She took the last glance at the dim lighted street and turned round, facing the man.

"You're right, it's hard to trust your own siblings these days," she spoke while approaching the man slowly, putting her hand in her fashionable purse. "But see, money has an enormous power these days…" She said silently, almost whispering, looking straightly in his eyes intensely. "Don't you agree?.."

The grey haired man looked down solemnly at the money that the bold woman had put in his palm and widened his eyes, it was more than the price of the room itself. _'Well it's my wife's birthday tomorrow..'_ he thought and looked back up in the lady's green eyes, _'devil's eyes'. _A little voice told him not to trust this stranger, who was probably a criminal chased by mafia or police, or maybe just an adventurous wife of a rich, old merchant, eagerly expecting a passionate rendezvous with a young lover in this old, god-forsaken Hotel that was located in the outskirts of Paris.

The man smiled mischievously at the last thought and nodded at the woman that stood silently in front of him. "Very well, mademoiselle," he walked towards the door, having made up his mind finally. "If you need anything, just ring the bell."

"I will." The woman smiled and blinked for a second that looked like she had been enormously relieved by his approval. "Just one more thing though monsieur, could you tell me briefly about my neighbors?"

The man had been almost out of the room but as she spoke he turned round, "Well you have only two neighbors, one is an English gentleman and the second's my cousin who's been staying here for a couple of months. I can assure you my lady, that none of those persons are probable to disturb your peace, you have my word, you have."

"Alright," the woman smiled, "Good night monsieur."

"Good night, mademoiselle..."

"Belmont," came the answer, "Marguerite Belmont."

The man nodded and shut the door behind himself, certain that at least the last name was false, but who cared? A young woman as Mademoiselle Belmont couldn't possibly be dangerous for his property.

The following day he would go to the market and buy a nice pair of buckle shoes for his wife's birthday.

The last sound in the hotel was man's joyous whistle and then snore.

As soon as the man was out of her room, Marguerite threw herself on the spacious bed and moaned, the day had been one of the worst, most frightful experiences of her life. The strange men taking Adrienne, hearing of her cruel, beastly murder, then her escape.. _'Oh,_ _Adrienne..'_ a single tear rolled down the porcelain cheek of the woman. All this time she had been her best friend, who had been keeping her secrets and helped her to earn her living. Now she was all alone, confused and scared, well aware that she could have been found by Adrienne's murderers any minute, chasing after her and their jewels. 'Damn these precious stones.." she thought. They should have never stolen them, especially from _him, _the dangerous and influential man in the criminal's world.

Marguerite shook her head as if to clear it from the negative memories. She couldn't change the past now, she had to act. _Act to save herself._

The woman shut her eyes and listened to the silence that was reigning streets of Paris.

The plan started to form itself in her mind. The following day she visit Paul, her former lover and friend, and would ask him his dead sister's passport. This was the only possibility to leave France. Her passport was still in the pub where she had been singing with Adrienne, but she couldn't go there back, that would mean her certain death.

The next morning Marguerite woke up with a strange sense of optimism. After a quick shower she dressed up as smartly as she could and smiled, she would do. Paul lived very near, she wouldn't have to walk much which meant the lesser chance to be found by her enemies. She just wished he wouldn't be angry to see her, she knew she had brought him a big pain, by leaving him after their happy and loving days, without even saying good-bye.

As she shut the door behind her back, she saw a blonde, smartly dressed man locking his door. Their eyes met and Marguerite unconsciously smiled. She hardly ever even looked in strangers' eyes, but she had been feeling optimistic and energetic since morning and what was more, the man's blue eyes were honest and warm. The man smiled back warmly, and after finally locking up his room, he went down the stairs with quick steps.

After seven hours Marguerite returned in the hotel exhausted and disappointed. She had been told that Paul wasn't in Paris and he'd be back only after a week. She had been so irritated that she had almost started screaming.

She would have to wait.

Marguerite sighed and as she approached the entrance of the hotel saw her neighbor from a corner of her eye, the one whom she had bumped into in the morning in the hall. The man seemed to have noticed her as well, and obviously surprised by her sad expression, smiled tentatively, like he had in the morning. Marguerite tried to pull the corners of her mouth up, but didn't succeed. She just thanked the man with her eyes for opening the entrance door of the hotel and went up the stairs with heavy steps.

Four days passed. Marguerite didn't do much during those days. She mostly stayed indoors and planned her life after she would escape from France to Monaco, where she intended to sell the stolen jewels and start a new life. She would buy a nice place and earn herliving by estabilishing a cafe.. Everybody, including her best friend Adrienne had always thought her ambitious and someone who strieved for luxurious life, or maybe she gave them reasons to think so. But all she had ever dreamt of was a quiete life, small business and a loving family. It was trange that after all the pain she had been through, she still had the same, seemingly childish dream.

But for now, Marguerite had to be strong headed, selfish bitch, taking all she could from others and never giving away an inch, that was her principle.

Her life for now was monitone and boring. All she did during the days was going down the Hotel's cafe for meals. It seems that everything was alright, but the only thing that had been disturbing the woman was loneliness. Sometimes she would miss someone to chat with so badly that would consider going to a nearby square, after changing her mind quickly.

The only person she saw every day in regular basis was her silent, mysterious neighbor. Whenever they'd meet, in the café, on stairs or in the hall he would smile at her warmly, and she would smile back.

It was such a simple gesture, and yet, every time Marguerite felt warmed by the smile. One could think that it was simply a sexual attraction between a pretty girl and handsome boy, but if that were true, he would have tried to get closer to her, talk to her, flirt with her. But he always kept distance.

Even so, Marguerite wondered if the man knew how grateful she was to him, for teaching her the new, simple language that was called Smile.

Only after four days did she learn his name by a waitress.

His name was Lord William Roxton.


	2. Chapter 2

Fifth day from Marguerite's arrival in the hotel

Lord William Roxton threw his fashionable gray coat on his bed and immediately opened the letter that had arrived on his name that morning. He smiled grimly seeing the name of the sender. He should have known, his father wouldn't leave him alone, _they_ wouldn't let him go.

He quickly read the letter and sighed, for as he had expected, it was full of threats and angry words. He was being demanded to return to Avebury as soon as possible and get married with Lady Agatha Baines - mean, cold woman he had never loved and never would. They had been engaged since their childhoods, which William found inhumanly unfair - why did two persons have to devote their entire lives to each other just because of some overrated tradition? So much for being the Lord of the manor, he grimly smiled, title and wealth brought power, but no freedom.

He just wondered how his father had found him in Paris, was the power of Lord Richard Roxton that immense?

He had literally escaped from the dull, silent walls of their manor in England, sick of his endless duties – go to the party of Lord R.T, smile politely to the foolish virgins swaying and giggling in front of him, carry on the boring, senless conversations with equally pea-brained, dull people who only had money and title, just like him. William knew that his biggest fear was that one day he would turn into one of those _toads. _(How Johnny had laughed at his choice of word!). He had sworn to himself once that would never happen, but day after day it was clear to him that he was becoming the slave of his title, of the snobbish, arrogant society. And his wild spirit, which had longed to travel miles and miles away from those monotone, oppressive parties and social events, was dieing, slowly fading away and being replaced by _The Lord Toad's_ instincts – smile, bow, talk about weather, wave…

When he had arrived in Paris he had purposely looked for a hotel in the outskirts of the city, knowing that meeting one of his "friends" here was impossible. His motives of being in the city was unclear even for himself, most of his activities during the day included going to nearest bordello, rent love for several hours, take a long walk in the narrow streets of the city and go back to the hotel, where he knew the sweetest part of his daily activities – get a smile from a beautiful stranger.

He had been seeing her every day, and whenever they would bump into each other, mainly in the hall where their bedrooms where located, she would smile at him sweetly and innocently and he would smile back. Or was it him who always smiled first?

He knew that the lady knew his identity already, having been told by the owner of the Hotel. And he had been amazed that her smiles had remained the same- distant and yet so sweet and full of honesty. She didn't want anything from him, just the exchange of the human warmth, that was so new for him, and so surprisingly refreshing.

It would be a lie to say that he didn't want her, in fact he had had not so innocent dreams about her last two night, but for some reason he wanted this wordless "relationship" to remain as it was – _pure. _

He forced himself to take his thoughts off the elfin-faced girl and took a glance of the letter again. His father had wasted time. He would not go back to England. And yet, his decision didn't seem to cool him off, he had to admit that his life in Paris was miserable and futile, consisting of prostitutes and romantic thoughts of a beautiful stranger that probably wasn't even interested in him. This wasn't what he had dreamt of. He just wished his brother was there, he always had a good advice to give. Lucky chap, he thought grimly, no lord's duties for him, most of John's adulthood was spent in traveling the world's most fascinating places, hunting.

"_What I wouldn't give to be in your place, Johnny." _He thought and suddenly his thoughts were distracted by the feminine shouts from the hall.

It was _**her **_voice.

William quickly jumped off his bed and ran to the door.


	3. Chapter 3

Present time

Present time. Plateau. Fourth year.

Marguerite poured two cups of lavender tea in the white porcelain cups and placed them delicately on two matching saucers, the big smile leaving her fresh, happy features.

She wondered if John would like his tea to be sweet that morning and smiled, he definitely would have liked sweet.

After four years on the plateau, and several months of their intimate relationship, Marguerite had learnt some little facts about John's tastes and more. He usually preferred his tea to be unsweetened, claiming that sugar made his brain go slow, but occasionally, he would put a half cube into his beverage, especially when he was in exceptionally good mood. Marguerite didn't need to ask him if today was the case.

She took the cups of tea to her bedroom, where her beloved was waiting for the promised cuppa, and tried to not move too much as her bed-sheet was awkwardly wrapped around her bare body and was about to fall off any minute, not that John would mind witnessing the scene.

The heiress chuckled quietly as she imagined herself completely naked holding two cups of tea. _'Now that sounds like some cheap porn from Parisian men's magazines..'_ she thought wryly.

"What's so funny? Want to share?" John's voice put the end of her odd thoughts when she entered the bedroom. He was still lying there on her bed like a proud tiger that is resting after a long, hunt in the sunshine. His strong body was mostly covered, but just seeing him smile impishly like that, made her recall the sweet moments of the last night, and smirk contently.

The other residents of the treehouse had gone to the Zanga village. Veronica had been informed that Assai had finally born twin boys, so, eager to congratulate the happy mother, set off to the village for a whole week, taking Finn along with her. Challenger went with them as well, claiming that he needed to purchase some alcohol that were so necessary for his experiments, but they all knew that he longed to see the newborns as well.

Marguerite and Roxton were asked to come with them, but the dark haired beauty made a blurry excuse about not being keen on wailing brats (and winked to the white hunter), and therefore Roxton had to stay in the treehouse as well, looking forward to have the house all for them for whole seven days.

Finn was about to say drolly "Yeah, right" as Veronica grabbed her arm, giggling and pushing her to the elevator, so the dark haired pair were left alone..

It was the best week in her life, Marguerite could swear, most of the daylight spent in his or her bedroom, and nights, well, in the beds as well.

She had always known instinctevly that he would be a passionate lover, but he was so much…. better, a crazy, never-satisfied beast.

Every second day they would go on hunting, which were in most cases not so successful, as there were several enticing, tempting ponds around and he couldn't possibly say no when her lady would want to "take a dip", could he?

"Nothing." She replied in her unique saucy manner that could make even the most unsexy phrase she said, sensual and full of promise.

She half sat on the bed like him, her back leaning against his side and chest. They both drank their morning liquids quietly, marveling in their unbelievable happiness, their hands brushing occasionally at each other's.

"You have dark circles around your eyes." Suddenly Roxton said, putting his saucer on the bed stand. He leaned his arm casually over her shoulder, careful not to make her pour her tea on herself.

"Oh?" Marguerite's eyes sparkled with bemusement. This was a very familiar game for both of them and she welcomed it gleefully. "Do you suggest that we sleep more?"

"Would you believe me if I said yes?" he smiled at her down with his eyes "Oh well. My brother once said that most incredible inventions were result of the sleepless nights."

The heiress looked up somberly at him, not liking his transparent eyes that were fixed on the bedroom's window.

There was a big pause. The spell was broken. _'Damn… Did he_ _have to mention him now?. After our night together ? .' _

But Marguerite knew very well that that was not the reason of her broken mood. John's remark about William had brought back memories that she had been trying to hide in the most inactive cells of her brain, and _guilt_..

Marguerite shut her eyes tightly with emotion and wished her accelerated pulse would slow down. _'It wasn't your fault, it was __**his**_ _choice..'_ But the another, cruel voice in her head wouldn't leave her alone.

"I'm sorry." She heard his low, preoccupied voice. He must have noticed her expression. "It just.. came to my mind," he took his arm off her shoulder and faced his beloved, "I'm sorry Marguerite, I ruined our moment together."

Silly man. She smiled.

"It's alright John." She placed a chaste peck on his lips and got up, and started looking around the room for her camisole that had been tossed somewhere last evening during the frenzied burst of passion. "John why don't you go on hunting today? I have so much laundry to do, too much in fact, as last days were spend in fooling around and doing nothing."

He had got up too and was now trying to insert one of his legs in his jodhpurs.

"Alone? Don't want to come with me?" He eyed her, surprised.

"John," she started playfully, "you know what our hunting trips together turn , usually.."

"Gotcha." He winked at her, convinced. "Are you sure you're okay?" He asked and approached her, fully dressed with mere concern on his face.

'_Damn, smile Marguerite, you don't want him to suspect something!'_ Marguerite shook her head and quickly took his head in her hands, kissing him passionately.

"Okay.." He said, looking both content and surprised, "I better go now, 'till I change my mind."

She laughed and blew a kiss and waved at him as he disappeared from the room, heading to the elevator.

As soon as she heard the elevator stopping in the yard, she sat heavily on the bed, her face grim and sad.

"Oh, John.. Only if I had enough courage to tell you everything.." she whispered miserably, taking the bed sheet in her hands.

She could feel his masculine scent as she buried her face in the white crisp material, before she started to cry.


End file.
